


Harry Potter and the Stones of Naribe:

by thequidditchpitch_archivist



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Action/Adventure, Friendship, Post-Hogwarts, Romance, The Quidditch Pitch: Leaving Feast
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2006-07-29
Updated: 2006-08-21
Packaged: 2018-10-27 14:28:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 11,593
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10810869
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thequidditchpitch_archivist/pseuds/thequidditchpitch_archivist
Summary: Harry spends his seventh year in the magical world looking for a way to take Voldemort down. And he's going to need all the help he can get. HG RHr





	1. The Start Of A New Life

**Author's Note:**

> Note from Annie, the archivist: this story was originally archived at [The Quidditch Pitch](http://fanlore.org/wiki/The_Quidditch_Pitch), which went offline in 2015 when the hosting expired, at a time I was not able to renew it. I contacted Open Doors, hoping to preserve the archive using an old backup, and began importing these works as an Open Doors-approved project in April 2017. Open Doors e-mailed all authors about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact us using the e-mail address on [The Quidditch Pitch collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/thequidditchpitch/profile).

Harry grunted when he closed the heavy lid of his trunk. Two loud snaps: all of his possessions were locked safely inside. The only exception being Hedwig's birdcage, which stood empty on the windowsill. Hedwig had already gone. Harry looked around--yellowish paper was peeling off the walls, the once white carpet was now a dull grayish brown under the many stains and blotches, the door creaked,the cat-flat rattled. It was strange that this room could be found in a house with a perfectly manicured lawn and sparkling windows, gleaming in sunlight.

Harry hitched up his trousers and sat down on his trunk. He put his chin in his hands and closed his eyes for a moment. It was strange. He had expected this moment to be quite different. For as long as he could remember, Harry had been longing for this day - his seventeenth birthday - when he could walk away from the Dursleys forever. He had expected to be thrilled, excited, impatiently anticipating his new, better, life…. his Dursley-free life. But he wasn't.

Gloom settled on Harry as he rubbed then opened his eyes. It wasn’t the shabby, gloomy surroundings that dampened his spirits - although obviously they didn't help much - it was the circumstances.

Harry walked through his room, stopping to lift the loose floorboard under his bed, checking if he really had everything. Then he walked over to his window and pushed it slightly further open, enjoying the sensation of the cool summer breeze and the warm sunshine on his skin.

It was then that he heard it. First a pop. He recognized that sound well. Then, in very quick succession, a high pitched scream, a roar, and then heavy thudding on the stairs. Harry grinned weakly. That was his sign. Much more effective than a doorbell. He lifted his trunk - with some difficulties - and started carrying it down the stairs. He was only halfway when Arthur Weasley's face loomed up before him.

"There you are, Harry. Need some help with this?"

"Yes, thanks," Harry said, offering him a small, grateful, smile.

His uncle Vernon and aunt Petunia stood at the bottom of the stairs, and he watched the two struggle. Vernon was wiping his forehead with a handkerchief - obviously not recovered from shock yet - while Petunia had gone back to chewing her tongue disapprovingly.

"Well -" Harry panted, having reached the bottom of the stairs "- I'll just… be going then… shall I?”

The Dursleys remained silent. The only sounds were the grunts coming from Ron while he pushed the trunk towards the fireplace.

"So… goodbye.. I guess"

The Dursleys still remained silent, but Harry couldn't care less. He walked towards the fireplace as Mr. Weasley shot an indignant and incredulous look at his relatives. A loud creak on the stairs told Harry Dudley had ventured downstairs.

Harry accepted the small pouch Ron handed him and threw a pinch of the greenish powder in the hearth.

" Number 12 Grimmauld Place," he bellowed. And the last thing he saw, before the flames rushed him away, was the cautious look on Dudley's face as he peeked around the corner.

 

\--------------------------------------------------------

 

Not ten minutes later, Harry found himself standing in a new bedroom. It looked no better than the one he had just left. 

He wiped his forehead with his sleeve and pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose. A flick of his wand caused the dusty window to open with a squeak, allowing bright sunlight in. It illuminated the room and the fresh air made the dust in the room swirl. Harry sighed, but squared his shoulders. _OK, If this is going to be my new home, then it's going to look the way I want it to_.

He pointed his wand to the wall. At his command, the paper smoothed out, stuck back to the wall and changed from faded green to a deep shade of red. The bed stretched and broadened, it's thin metal frame transforming into sturdy wood. The blanket tucked itself nicely around the corners of the conjured mattress, it's light red matching the re-colored curtains by the window.

The moldy old floor turned into shining teak, and the thick blanket of dust vanished.

Harry stopped and admired his handiwork. It wasn't perfect. The curtains were still kind of frayed, and Harry spotted an occasional patch of dust that had escaped his cleaning spell. But he was satisfied with the result. He could live in this.

It took him several hours before he was not only satisfied with his bedroom, but also with the restyled bathroom, kitchen, living room, entrance hall and study. Harry sank in one of his new recliners and took off his glasses. The members of the Order were going to be very surprised tomorrow. Hardly anyone stayed behind to guard the Headquarters these days, Lupin had informed him. Everyone had scattered. The Order members hardly ever saw each other outside the gatherings.

 

\----------------------------------------------------------

“Bloody hell, Harry. What did you do to the place?”

Ron Weasley stared around the entrance hall. It’s new décor made a huge difference. It looked nothing like the dark, neglected housed it had been before. Ron had just stepped aside and wiped the soot of his robes when Hermione appeared in the green flames of the grate, spinning very fast but stopping herself in time to avoid falling over.

“Hi Harry! How are you?”

She quickly hugged her friend and then looked around the house approvingly.

‘Well done. The recolouring-incantation I presume? Well, you did a good job, Harry. This looks really nice.”

Harry shrugged.

“I didn’t like it much before. And if this is where I’m going to live…” Harry sighed. He didn’t like this house anymore than he did before he redecorated it. Everything in this house reminded him of Sirius. It felt like a prison, whatever color the walls bore.

A quick trip upstairs was all that was needed to transport Ron and Hermione’s belongings to their separate rooms. After all, they were of age and perfectly allowed to shrink their trunks to fit in their pockets.

Ron and Hermione were going to stay with Harry at Grimmauld Place. Hermione had had quite an argument about it with her parents, but they had relented in the end. Ron’s mother hadn’t made much of a problem about it. The rest of the Weasleys – minus Charlie and Percy – where staying at the Headquarters too. Harry was looking forward to their arrival. This house was way too big and way too quiet. He was going to need a lot of distraction.

 

\----------------------------------------------------------

 

Harry, Ron and Hermione had two quiet days for themselves. Ron insisted on using this time for playing exceptionally loud games of exploding snap.. Hermione wanted to use the quiet to her benefit for studying. Harry didn’t feel much for either and spent most of his time in his room, watching old photographs of his parents, or else strolling restlessly through the halls of the house of Black. 

Harry felt lost. He felt small and insignificant, unable to control anything that was going on is his strange life. Everything ended up in disaster, and the world seemed to move too fast for him. He could not keep up with his own life. The only people who had helped to keep him from drowning were now dead, and Harry did not know who else he could turn to. Sure – he had Ron and Hermione, but they didn’t understand the events any better than he did.

The loss of Professor Dumbledore had hit him hard. It seemed to Harry as though their last hope had been extinguished. Dumbledore was irreplaceable. How were they going to cope without him? Dumbledore always seemed to know the best thing to do in every situation, even when everything seemed lost. Although Harry hadn’t always been very happy with the old Headmaster, he had never needed him more than he needed him right now.

He was going to have to deal with Voldemort alone. The prophecy said so, but more importantly, Harry felt it in his bones. He had been hiding behind others ever since his birth, and every single one of his protectors had died. Now was the time to stand up. No more hiding. Stand up and fight. Harry’s steps became strides and he squared his shoulders. He was going to face Voldemort. He was going to face him and – Merlin help him – he was going to take him down. He was going to kill him for once and for all. The only problem was,Harry’s shoulders sagged again, – _how?_

 

\---------------------------------------------------------

 

The moment Grimmauld Place filled with the Weasley family, the place seemed to buzz with excitement about one topic – the wedding. Bill had invited Fleur to stay (“You don’t mind, d’you Harry?”) and she kept the upcoming nuptials fresh in everyone’s mind by striding trough the halls exclaiming loudly; “Ze music, ze food, ze _dress_ , I will nevver get this finished!”. Yet, Harry had to admit that she was a lot nicer than the previous year. The battle at Hogwarts had shaken her up badly, and nowadays she seemed to care more about the well-being of others than she would have done before. Still, that didn’t keep the rest of the Weasley siblings – Fred, George and Ginny – to scowl and imitate her walk every time she left a room. 

Ginny – there was another problem for Harry. He had absolutely no idea how to act around the youngest Weasley. His break-up with her had been a precaution, rather than a result of a bad relationship, and everyone knew it.

Harry’s stomach leapt every time he laid eyes on the redhead. He could not deny that he was still attracted to her fiery hair, her cheeky smile and her ringing laugh.

Every fiber in his body craved to hold her, to move his fingers through her silky hair, like he had been allowed to do just weeks ago. But he controlled himself. He would force himself to look away and occupy himself, but he couldn’t ignore the pang of guilt at the sight of her hurt face.

The only person Harry felt comfortable talking to the first days was Remus Lupin. The graying werewolf seemed to at least understand what Harry was feeling and provided him with words of comfort and support. Lupin informed him that the death of Dumbledore and the betrayal of Snape had struck the Order to the core. It had lost it’s most valuable members. Mad-Eye Moody and Kingsley Shacklebolt had been chosen to follow in Dumbledore’s footsteps and lead the Order, but things just weren’t the same. Yet the Order struggled on. It’s members refused to give up. Harry admired the strength and determination in Lupin’s voice as he spoke, and he wondered if he could ever be that strong.

Harry had told Lupin about his determination to stand up and do something. Maybe he could join the Order? Surely they needed members? And they didn’t need to test his loyalty, he had proven that repeatedly. 

But Lupin had smiled at Harry in a fatherly sort of way.”I know you want to do something Harry. But the Order won’t let you. They have spent the last two years under Dumbledore keeping you out of harms way. Kingsley and Moody are following Dumbledore’s example. They are not going to let you fight in a hurry.”

“But I have to defeat Voldemort! I need to learn to fight! How can they expect me to battle the most powerful Dark Lord of our century without experience?”

Lupin didn’t have an answer, and Harry crossed his arms furiously.

 

\---------------------------------------------------------

 

One night, Harry, Ron and Hermione found themselves sitting in front of the hearth in the living room. The few Order-members that had been walking around the place were away on a mission that the three friends weren’t allowed to know anything about. Fred and George were working overtime in their shop, and Ginny had gone to bed early. Hermione was stroking Crookshanks, and Ron was thinking out quidditch tactics with his chessboard. Harry was staring in the flames. No one spoke a word until Hermione broke the comfortable silence. 

“What are you going to do this year, Harry?”

Harry looked up. What _was_ he going to do?

”I dunno. I’m not going back to Hogwarts. I’d like to visit Godric’s Hollow, you know, my parents place.” He then added, “If they’ll let me.”

The previous day, all three of them had received an owl from Headmistress McGonagall, informing them that Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry would indeed be opening it’s doors on September the first. Harry had thrown the letter and his list of books,away.

“How about you, Ron?”

Ron stopped prodding his chess pieces around and sighed. ”I dunno, I really don’t. Maybe I’ll be going back to Hogwarts. You know, NEWT-year. But a fat lot of good they will do when You-Know-Who…”

He moved his hand trough his hair and sighed again. ”I dunno,” he repeated.

“Well, I’m not going back,” Hermione stated, and she closed her book.

“But Hermione, what about your NEWT’s?” Ron asked.

“NEWT’s don’t matter. You just said so yourself.”

“But I thought you wanted to work at the Ministry? You won’t get in without NEWT’s…”

Hermione shrugged.

“Hermione, don’t go throwing away everything… you’ve got a chance at a really good career! You can make lots of money!”

“There’re more important things than work and money, Ronald. I’m going to help fighting against Voldemort and –“

“Voldemort’s not going to live forever,” Harry said quietly. Hermione fell silent. “I’m going to spend this year taking him down.”

Hermione walked up, and sat down in front of him. She put her hand on his knee and smiled at him in a sad way.

“And I am going to help you with that, Harry.”


	2. The Will

Two uneventful weeks passed, and Harry hadn’t been out of Grimmauld Place once. He started to feel trapped. He wondered how Sirius could have held out for months in here. Harry wasn’t planning to. The Order wasn’t going to be very happy with him, but Harry simply refused to wait for Voldemort to find a way to break into the Headquarters and finish him off on the spot. They couldn’t keep him here against his will. He was of age.

The fact that Harry was still there was due to only one thing: he didn’t know where to start. Dumbledore had had sources, spies, information. Harry had nothing. He didn’t have the faintest clue as to where to find the remaining horcruxes. Dumbledore and Harry had been the only ones to know about them, so it was no use asking others. Yeah, there was one R.A.B. but he had no idea who that could have been. And besides, that person was probably dead already.

The cup, the locket, the snake and something of Ravenclaw’s or Griffyndor’s. 

The snake could be found at Voldemort’s side. Harry knew that. But for the rest of the things?

Harry, Ron and Hermione had spend hours locked up in the library, trying to find out who the mysterious R.A.B. could be, but to no avail.

Harry started to feel quite uncomfortable with Hermione’s decision not to go to Hogwarts, staying behind to help him.. Help him with what? He wasn’t doing a single thing. Ron was kind of right, Hermione was throwing away a lot. But she wouldn’t hear a thing against it.

”You’ll figure something out, Harry. _We’ll_ figure something out,” she said confidently every time he tried to point it out.

Ron hadn’t decided yet. Harry understood. He would like to have his friend by his side, but it was time for Ron to make a decision based on what _he_ wanted, rather than just following Harry. There was more in the world than just Voldemort, and Ron deserved a chance to build his life. Dropping out of school would make that difficult, indeed. Harry knew how much Ron hated his poverty. Ron deserved a shot at a good job and a successful career. And he wasn’t going to get it without his NEWT’s.

Molly Weasley wasn’t making things much easier. She had been shocked to find out that Harry wasn’t planning to return for his seventh year, and when she didn’t succeed in changing his mind, she was determined to stop her youngest son from reaching the same decision. During meals she would constantly inform them all exactly how many jobs there were in the ministry and telling them that – of course – they all required NEWT’s and top grades. When that didn’t work she changed her track to Hogwarts.

“Do you know who is going be quidditch captain next year, Harry dear? Maybe our Ron could be up for the job?”

Harry had replied that the quidditch captain was McGonagall’s responsibility, but he had seen the sparkle of interest in Ron’s eye. Ron would simply _love_ to be quidditch captain. He would have a good shot at it, now. And because of Hermione leaving, he might have a chance of being Head Boy too.

Harry remembered the mirror of Erised from his first year. Ron had pictured himself Head Boy, Quidditch captain, and winner of both the House Cup and the Quidditch Cup. It had been his hearts desire. And it wasn’t even that impossible.

Harry felt bad for his best mate. Ron had to choose between his deepest desireor his friends. Harry was flattered that Ron hadn’t immediately decided to stay at school. It was a proof of how close their friendship was that Ron was seriously considering throwing all his dreams away for his friend, even when that friend had nothing to offer.

\----------------------------------------------------------

Then, one sunny morning in August a large barn owl swept trough the kitchen window and landed in front of Harry, who had just started on his toast. 

Harry released the owl from it’s burden – it immediately flew off – and Harry looked at the parchment. It bore the Gringotts crest. Who in Gringotts would be writing to him?

Harry ripped the envelope open and unfolded the letter. Harry’s eyes widened as he read it. Ron and Hermione – noticing his reaction – bent towards him.

”What is it, Harry?”

”What does it say, mate?”

Harry handed Ron the letter – Hermione read it over his shoulder and gasped.

”Harry… but this is…-“

”- Dumbledore’s will!” all three of them said at the same time.

At that point, they heard footsteps. George was entering the kitchen, no doubt followed closely by Fred.

”C’mon’,” Ron mumbled and jerked his head in the direction of the stairs.

As soon as they had entered, and Hermione had ensured there was a Silencing Charm on the door – Ron burst out.

“Bloody hell, Harry, Dumbledore’s will! What d’you reckon he left you?”

”It doest say – “ Harry frowned at the paper. –”"It only says his belongings have been moved to my vault.”

”Ooh, you could have loads of interesting stuff. Dumbledore really had the most ingenious things.” Hermione was practically shivering with excitement.

Harry recalled himself smashing many of those _ingenious things_ and wondered, for the first time, what they had been and if Dumbledore had managed to repair them.

”Why would he leave stuff to me?” he wondered out loud.”I mean, didn’t he have family, of friends or something. I can hardly imagine him dealing out his possessions amongst the students.” 

“Dumbledore was really old, Harry. I don’t think he had many family members still alive.”

“And you were his favorite student, mate, everyone knows that.”

“He’s left you things before, Harry. Remember your father’s cloak?”

“That was already mine.” Harry answered, looking at his two best friends. “He just returned it to me.”

“Yeah, and right when you needed it too – oh!”

The idea struck all three of them at the same time. Dumbledore had left Harry his cloak when he had needed it. What if he left Harry things he needed now too? Dumbledore had been working on finding the Horcruxes before he died. What if… Harry stared at the letter in his hand as though it was a priceless treasure. What if he had left Harry information to find the horcruxes?

\----------------------------------------------------------

If Harry could have had things his way, he would have jumped up and immediately set off for Gringotts. But he couldn’t. No Order member was available at the moment, and they simply wouldn’t let him go alone. Even Ron and Hermione pointed out that running around in Diagon Alley alone would be incredibly foolish with all the recent Death Eater activity – especially if your name was Harry Potter. The Daily Prophet was now reporting attacks, murders and disappearances on a daily basis. Voldemort was no longer keeping silent. 

Doing nothing was rapidly growing unbearable for Harry. He had a lead, a chance to _do_ something, and he was aching to do it. Every death, every disappearance, and every attack made him more impatient.

He finally got his chance on a Tuesday morning. Tired of his nagging, Lupin and Tonks had agreed to join Harry on his trip to Gringotts. _I must have been really annoying_ Harry thought, satisfied as he looked at Lupin’s and Tonks’ faces. They both had had night duty. Judging from the bags under their eyes they looked ready to fall asleep where they stood.

Harry had visited his vault with Ron and Hermione several times earlier, but every time he had made sure to block it’s contents from Ron or any other Weasley’s view. This time, of course, he could do no such thing, and he could hear Ron sucking in his breath as the vault opened. Harry himself looked around amazed too. The contents seemed to have at least doubled since his last visit. Dumbledore must have been filthy rich. _Keep it up like this and I’m going to need a bigger vault,_ Harry thought to himself as he looked around.

He now started noticing the things that had definitely not been in his vault the last time had been here. There was a bundle of old parchment in the right corner of his vault, and behind that a rusty old box. A pile of books stood in the left corner. Many of them bore runes that Harry didn’t understand.

“Right” he muttered to Ron and Hermione. “I guess we need to bring this along. We don’t have time to read all of this here.”

Harry knew there was a clue somewhere amongst this stuff and was determined to work trough it carefully. Ron shrank the books and tucked them in his schoolbag. Hermione pocketed the bundle of papers, and Harry picked up the rusty box. It was surprisingly heavy. Fading golden letters were stamped across the lid. _This side up_. Harry held it carefully. He wondered what was in it.

He stepped back into the cart carefully as a goblin locked his vault again. What if he was holding the key to defeating Voldemort?

\----------------------------------------------------------

As soon as the three teenagers arrived in Number 12 Grimmauld Place again, they immediately rushed upstairs. Neither of them noticed Tonks and Lupin smiling as they watched them. 

The books Ron brought turned out to texts concerning ancient magic that was now forbidden by the Ministry.

“Look at this, _Life preservation in the 1500th century_ _by Armeus Rendell._ D’you reckon You-Know-who used one of these books to.. you know.. come back?”

“See if it says anything on horcruxes, Ronald.” Said Hermione, resurfacing from one of the books with runes across the cover.

“This is really difficult” she said, flipping the book over and looking at the cover. “It’s going to take some time translating these. I’d better start working on this right away.”

While Ron was flicking through the pages of _Live preservation in the 1500th century_ , and Hermione was drawing up a reading schedule, Harry picked up the rusty box and opened the lid. It creaked as dust fell off. He recognized the silver glow immediately. _Dumbledore’s Pensive!_ Carefully Harry lifted the stone basin out of the box. It was strange to see it out of Dumbledore’s office. Harry recalled all the times he had visited Dumbledore’s memories the previous year, and wondered if the pensive held a key memory. Dumbledore would have showed it to him, wouldn’t he? _Maybe not._ Dumbledore was well known for keeping information to himself.

Harry ran his fingers across the engraved runes. This morning he had nothing to work on, right now he had so much he didn’t know where to start. All these books. All these notes. And who knew how many memories this pensive held? Maybe, Hermione’s schedules would come in useful after all.


	3. A Magical Wedding

For a full week, it was almost like Harry Potter did not live at number 12 Grimmauld Place. Nobody ever saw him walking around, not even for a bathroom break. He was hardly ever seen during meal times. His bedroom door was locked, and it was only because of the soft muttering that the Order members knew that Harry was still alive.

For a full week the Order members were trying to get information out of him. They knew something was going on. First the demand to go to Gringotts, then hardly being able to wait to get home again, and then locking himself up in his room. Most of the time, Hermione and Ron were nowhere to be found either. They knew the three friends were up to something. They knew they couldn’t lay down quietly. What bothered The Order was twofold: what are they doing and why don’t we know about it?

After the full week, Harry, Ron and Hermione had no choice but to come out of their room again. They would not have done it for anything but a very special occasion. After all, Bill Weasley didn’t get married every day.

Molly Weasley had been fussing around for ages and now, finally they were going to see the results. Humongous pies stood in the kitchen for two days before. Fleur’s mother, Juliette, had tried hiring a caterer, but Molly seemed to have taken that suggestion as a personal insult.

Ron and Harry were amazed at the amount of time Ginny and Hermione needed to discuss their outfits. After all, there are only so many things you can say about a dress.

Harry didn’t care very much. He had enlarged his fourth-year Yule-ball robes and didn’t see the point of any more fuss about it.

Ron was going to wear the dress robes he had gotten from Fred and George’s business money – or so he thought. Harry wasn’t going to correct him.

 

\----------------------------------------------------------

 

Life at the Headquarters seemed to turn back to normal – or as normal as it ever was. The Order-members seemed relieved to see the three teenagers out of their bedrooms again – although Moody kept throwing them suspicious glances. More and more people would stay at Grimmauld Place now – the heavy silence that had hung around the place in the first two weeks had vanished completely. The house of Black was now a center of community, and nobody bothered to shut Mrs. Black up anymore. Harry liked the rush. All the hurry meant there was hardly any time for his mind to wander to less pleasant subjects. Dumbledore’s books, notes and pensive were always in the back of his mind.

Another problem that kept growing could be found in the form of Ginny. Harry simply didn’t know what to do anymore. When the Weasleys had first arrived earlier in the summer, Harry had pretended as though nothing had happened between the two of them. Ginny hadn’t liked it, but she had played along. Harry had pretended that Ginny was nothing more that his best friend’s little sister. Ginny had pretended that Harry was just her brother's best friend, or worse, that he was noting more than the Boy-Who-Lived. It had been uncomfortable, but not impossible.

Nowadays however, Ginny had no patience with him. She would give him furious looks as soon as he entered the kitchen in the morning. Harry would wonder what he could possibly have done to her so early in the morning, and the first argument would usually break out before he had finished his toast.

Harry had tried asking Hermione for help. She suggested that he shouldn’t pretend like she wasn’t in the room and just talk to her, but everything he said just seemed to infuriate her even more.

Harry’s problem with Ginny put a stain on the friendship between Harry and Ron too. Although Ron had agreed with Harry weeks ago that girls were incomprehensible, he now started to suggest that maybe Harry had done something to upset her, and that he’d better apologize. Harry obeyed, remembering the number of older and larger brothers Ginny had. However, things got dramatically worse when Harry couldn’t say what exactly he was apologizing for.

So now they were back to ignoring each other. Harry would like to solve, what ever issue they had, before the wedding, but in the end, he decided to keep his mouth shut to avoid an even bigger row.

 

\----------------------------------------------------------

 

On the morning of the wedding, delicious scents wafted trough the halls of the Headquarters. Harry’s immediate thought was that it was worth going to the wedding only for the food. Molly seemed to have pulled out all the stops and had prepared a feast that the Hogwarts house-elves would have been proud of.

Ron got his hand slapped by his mother the moment Harry came walking into the kitchen. He had tried to taste a piece of the chopped pork – but quickly withdrew.

“Good morning, Harry dear. I’ve got a stack of toast right there. If you don’t mind, I’m a tad bit in a hurry -.”

Harry hardly catched the last bit as Molly had walked out of the kitchen while talking. He slumped down into a chair and ignoring the look Ginny shot him, accepted a piece of toast from Hermione.

“So, the big day has arrived. What time are we leaving, Hermione?”

Molly had wanted the wedding to take place at the Burrow, but neither Fleur, nor Fleur's mother, had agreed. It had been an issue for a while, but they had finally settled on a park in London, available only to the wizarding community . It was beautiful there; the trees were forever in blossom. Fleur had been ever so delighted to notice that the color of the blossom matched her dress perfectly. As it turned out, the Weasleys had chosen to spend their summer at Grimmauld Place because of it's proximity to the London park.

“We're leaving in three hours, so get ready. Bill and Fleur have already left. Oooh, they must be really nervous now.”

Harry wondered how he would feel on his wedding day ,should he ever marry someone. The idea of binding yourself to one person forever would be scary enough for him to start running very fast away from his bride, however pretty she looked in her dress.

Munching his toast, he only dimly registered Hermione's chat with Mr. Weasley about magical marriages.

“So, magical marriages differ from muggle marriages, don't they?”

“Well, yes, Hermione. A magical marriage is much more absolute. A muggle marriage frankly isn't much more than a signature on a piece of paper. However, we have magical vows-.”

“But, muggles have got vows too…”

“Yes, but it's different. You see, in the muggle community, a vow is just that-- A vow. But a muggle vow can be easily broken, or spoken when one doesn't really mean it. Therefore a muggle marriage technically isn't much more than a signature. Consequently it can be easily disbanded. All it requires is another signature, this time on the divorce papers, and you're free again.”

Hermione frowned. “Then, how is it different in the magical community?”

“Well, the difference is in the vows. The vows made during magical marriages are magic and therefore much heavier. It is a magical signature, rather than one on paper, and magic like that cannot easily be undone.”

Hermione looked thoughtful.

“Another thing about the magical vows” Mr Weasley continued “is than they aren't easily made either. A magical vow is considered the final test for a couple. It was a way of proving to the other that they really mean what they say. You cannot make them if you don't really mean it. If you know in advance that you cannot do as you promise, the magic won't work.”

“It won't work at all?”

“No. And you can imagine it's a humiliation for the couple if that occurs. It usually means the end of a relationship. But it doesn't happen very often. People are very careful with what exactly they're vowing.”

“You can choose what you vow?”

“You can write your own vows if you want to, that's what Bill and Fleur have done. As long as it applies to certain criteria…”

“So, a marriage vow is like an Unbreakable Vow, isn't it?”

“Well, yes. Without the dying, of course. But still, accidents out of weakness are near enough impossible and consequently the number of divorces in the magical world is significantly lower than in the muggle world.”

Harry swallowed the last bit of his toast.

“Right, better get dressed. See you in a bit.”

 

\----------------------------------------------------------

 

It was stifling hot when Harry walked up the steps from the London Underground to the busy muggle street. It had been rather cool in the metro, but the heat had returned in full force and it was a lot like walking into a sauna. Harry's robes were sticking to his back, and his glasses kept sliding off the bridge of his nose.

Looking around him, Harry spotted an ice-cream parlour standing right next to the entrance to the park. But this was obviously a muggle park. Hermione had said the wedding would take place in a park that was only available to the wizarding community. His confusion must have shown on his face because Mrs. Weasley smiled at him.

“This way, dears” 

Molly ushered them towards a large muggle park. Arthur was beside himself with glee when a couple of muggles on roller blades rushed right past them.

“Ingenious. Fascinating really. Riding on shoes with wheels. Harry, what exactly –“ But he fell silent after a meaningful look from his wife.

Mr. Weasley strode confidently into the park. Apparently he knew exactly where to go. The rest of the Weasleys followed suit, with Mrs. Weasley bringing up the rear.

Harry soon wished they had chosen a different way of travelling. The sun was burning hot on his skin, and he longed for a cool glass of pumpkin juice. Surely there must be a faster way.

“Here we are. Molly, would you go first?”

Harry looked around. They were reaching the end of the park. He couldn’t see what it was that should make this part of the park any different from the rest of it.. Muggles were strolling around, enjoying the sun, or else gathered around a group of trees, feeding what looked like squirrels.

Charlie nudged him.

“It’s right in front of you, Harry.”

Harry followed his eye; before him lay acres of bare territory. A sign told them that it was under construction, and it apologised for the inconvenience. Judging from the moss on the board and the fact that someone had etched ‘ _Peter was here, 1989_ ’ in the wood, Harry reckoned it had been standing there for quite a long time.

Molly walked over to an exceptionally broad barn tree. It was very old, with gnarled branches. Looking around to check that no muggles were around, she tapped the trunk with her wand and stepped right into the tree.

“Charlie, you’re next.”

Charlie followed his mother, tapping the trunk and then vanishing completely. Harry supposed the tree worked the same as the ticketbarrier at platform 9 ¾. He wondered where he would end up once he had stepped through. _Well, there is only one way to find out_ , he thought, when Arthur Weasley beckoned him forwards. Harry pulled out his wand and tapped the treetrunk twice. The tree suddenly started to fade. It’s shape began to blur and the color seemed to drain away until all what was left was a semi-transparent projection where the tree had stood. Harry could see right through it and then a green, flowery area behind it., very different from the sandy terrain. Cautiously looking around for muggles, Harry tentatively stepped through the blurry form of the tree and immediately found himself standing in the middle of a beautiful park.

The park stretched as far and wide as his eye could see. Amazingly old gnarled trees were in full blossom. Many small sandy winding paths led a handful of wizards an witches trough the thick of trees. It was raining velvety white petals. It looked like he had stepped right into a fairytale forest. Long rich green grass was dotted with cheerfully coloured flowers. It was like standing in a huge room with a soft green carpet, white ceiling and thick brown pillars. Rays of sunlight breaking through the trees illuminated the grass.

Next to him stood Mrs. Weasley and Charlie. Charlie looked wistfully around. Harry wondered what there could possibly be wrong about the sight.

Behind him, Fred and George appeared out of nothing, and Harry supposed they had been next to step through. Then came Ron and Ginny. Harry looked away, but couldn’t help thinking that she fitted into the picture very nicely. Hermione and Mr Weasley were then the last to arrive.

“Welcome kids, to Morgana Valley!”

Harry noticed the sun seemed to burn less in here, and the air was comfortably warm, rather than stifling hot. Mr Weasley led them through the trees. The walk through the valley was infinitely more enjoyable than the one through the muggle park. Slowly, a large party-tent came into view. It was decorated with partylights and flowers, and seemed to simply belong there. Several people waved at them. Harry recognised Fleur’s sister, Gabrielle. He noticed she had changed since the last time he had seen her – for the better.. He heard Ron gulp behind him.

“ _Honestly_ , Ron!”

As they drew closer, Harry spotted many fluttering live fairies floating around the place.

Mrs. Weasley seemed unfazed by the surroundings and acted her usual busy self.

“Right, boys, into that tent. Girls, you follow me. Get dressed. You lot, make sure you look nice. I want everything perfect tonight!”

 

\----------------------------------------------------------

 

The rest of the afternoon flew by.. Harry and the Weasley men had finished dressing quickly and spent the rest of the day preparing the spacious party tent for the festivities later on that evening. After a while, Mrs Weasley came over to help them, dressed very nice in a dress of deep red, trimmed with white. Neither Hermione nor Ginny could be found anywhere, but Mrs Weasley didn't seem to worry. They were as she reminded the boys, girls after all.

“Hi, Harrikins” George thumped him on the shoulder as he sat down on the front bench. He and Fred were dressed in red robes – “ _Griffyndor-red, ads a sentimental element, chap_ ” - with fluorescent green diagonal stripes - _“We're businessmen, Harry. We must stand out from the crowd”_. Molly had pursed her lips and scowled when she first saw the twins, but refrained from scolding them too loudly because the first guests had just arrived.

The benches began to fill up and quickly half of the seats were occupied. Harry recognised many faces. Practically the entire Order had come. Moody was muttering something in Kingsley's ear, Arabella Figg was chatting amicably to Hestia Jones, and at the far end, Harry noticed Tonks and Lupin sitting, hand in hand. Tonks caught Harry's eye, blushed a deep crimson, and then gave him the thumps up. Harry grinned back.

The next to sit down were Charlie and Mrs. Weasley. Even the twins' appealing appalling? dress robes didn't keep her from beaming proudly.

Harry heard Ron gasp loudly on his right and turned around to look. Hermione was walking towards them, smiling. She wore her hair in the same elegant knot as she had wore during the Yule ball, and she wore a dress of a deep blue. Ron gulped as she sat down, and he quickly smoothed out his robes. Harry would have teased him about it, if Ginny hadn't been walking next to Hermione.

Ginny looked simply perfect. She wore her hair loose, but slightly curled, and the fiery red colour gleamed in sunlight. Her dress was a very light green, trimmed with gold, and it seemed to hug her figure in all the right places. But it was the smile on her face that made Harry catch his breath. The monster in his chest purred, yet at the same time scolded him for pushing her away. That amazing girl could have been _his_. Harry and Ginny locked eyes for the briefest moment, and Ginny's smile faltered. Harry looked away quickly. He didn't want to see her angry. He wanted to remember her smiling. 

Ginny and her father took the last two seats closest to the aisle. Harry spent a couple of minutes talking to Fred and George, until the music started, and the crowed turned around as one. At the far end stood Fleur, linking arms with her mother. Fleur wore a beautiful velvety white wedding dress, decorated with pearls that sparkled in sunlight. She had her hair tied back in a knot, not unlike Hermione's, but wisps of silvery blonde hair escaped the bun and nonchalantly framed her face. She smiled enchantingly at the crowd. Most of the men were practically drooling, most of the women looked cross ,but Harry could see her nervousness shining trough. Slowly she made her way through the crowd, beaming at Bill, who already stood waiting for her at the front.

Bill looked quite nice, Harry noticed, and he smoothed out a couple of wrinkles in his own robes. He still wore his long, sleek, fiery hair in a ponytail, but there was no fang on his earring. As Bill extended his hand to take Fleur's, Harry's eyes lingered on the scars across his face and remembered what caused them. Bill was lucky to be standing here at all. For a moment Harry dwelled on the memories of only a few months ago. It felt like much longer. His stomach felt heavy and a cold fist briefly clenched his heart, but he shook the feeling off immediately. He wasn't going there today. Today was for celebration and happiness.

Harry felt a hand on his arm and looked aside to see Hermione's concerned face. He realised he had been clenching the arms of his chair tightly and relaxed. Shooting his friend an I'm-fine-don't-worry-about-me smile, Harry forced himself to concentrate on the happenings in front of him.

Fleur and Bill stood side by side, holding hands. They were listening to an old greying man in purple robes, but kept smiling at each other. Although they were very different, Harry had to admit they looked like a perfect couple. They had been making fun of Fleur for a year, but now Harry couldn't see anything in the beautiful woman that he could possibly make fun of. Her strength and her determination to stick with her fiancé, even when it was very obvious that the entire Weasley family rather saw the back of her, had impressed him. Harry remembered her standing up to Mrs Weasley in the hospital wing, and suddenly he felt bad about making fun of her behind her back. He decided to act friendlier towards her in the future. After all, she had always been nice to _him_.

Sudden furious whispers from the twins shook Harry out of his reverie. As he looked around in search of the source of the commotion, he spotted Percy walking towards one of the seats at the back. Harry stole a glance at Mr and Mrs Weasley. They didn't seem to have noticed their third son yet. Why was Percy here? He had not responded to the invitation Fleur had insisted on sending him. Yet here he was. Harry couldn't believe he dared to show his face after last Christmas.

Percy took a seat at the last row, close to Remus and Tonks, but he ignored his former teacher completely and stared stubbornly at Fleur and Bill.

Harry once again forced himself to concentrate on the wedding. Bill had taken both of Fleur's hands in his and smiled up at her. The old grey man pointed his wand at their hands. The crowd fell completely silent. This was the moment, the final test.

"With this vow I promise to you, my love, to stay true and loyal in our life together. I will do whatever I can to make you happy and I will do my best to be the spouse that you deserve. Whatever the future has in store for us, we shall deal with it together. Now and forever. This I promise to you only, and I shall not forget it."

Their hands glowed with a soft golden light and Harry heard several people applauding. Mrs Weasley sniffed.

Now it was Fleur's turn. She repeated the words, in a clear voice, holding Bill's eyes. The golden glow around their hands intensified until it was so strong Harry raised his hands to shield his eyes. When the light died down Bill and Fleur were locked in tight embrace. Mrs Weasley was positively sobbing.

'With the consent of the Ministry of Magic I now declare this couple bonded. I wish them happiness and prosperity in their life together, now and in the future.'

The purple robed Bonder spoke in his wheezy voice as he pocketed his wand and walked up to the front row. Mr and Mrs Weasley stood up, and the Bonder congratulated them with this joyous occasion. As he made his way towards Fleur's mother, who had gotten to her feet gracefully, his eyes scanned the crowd, paused at Harry and then shot up to his scar. Harry flattened his fringe, and the Bonder walked on, congratulating Mrs Delacour and then leaving the scene.

The Weasley family got to their feet. Harry made to stand up too, but Hermione hissed "We're supposed to remain seated, Harry!" in his ear. Mrs Delacour joined the read-haired crowd in congratulating the newlyweds. Harry spotted Mrs Weasley - eyes filled with happy tears - giving Bill one of her bone-crushing hugs and then turning to Fleur. Harry wondered what Mrs Weasley would do. To his astonishment he saw the Weasley matriarch engulfing her daughter-in-law in a tight hug too. Apparently, the vow had finally convinced her about the part-Veela's intentions. Fleur looked shocked but recovered quickly and beamed.

Ron clapped his brother joyfully on the shoulder but looked insecure when Fleur kissed him on both cheeks. He looked back at the front bench with flaming ears.

Hermione grumbled.


	4. A furious fight

The tent was decorated beautifully. The food was plentiful. The noise was plentiful: Bill and Fleur were amusing their guests in the hall nearby, the shouts and laughter sounding everywhere. An occasional _bang_ contributed to the din and informed the guests that Fred and George were having fun too. The music was deafening.

Yet Ginny Weasley had no trouble making herself heard over the noise. Both hands on her hips, she looked remarkably like her mother. Her ears were as red as her hair, and her brown eyes flashed dangerously almost in time with her heavy breathing.

Harry saw all these warning signs, and thus he winced as Ron chose entirely the wrong moment to come barging in.

“Harry, mate! Gabrielle's waiting for you. She got you drinks - but…er…- maybe I'll tell her you'll see her later…” Ron's voice faltered when he saw the menacing expression on his sister's face and made his strategic retreat.

“So. Gotten friendly with Gabrielle Delacour? Does she call you 'Arry too?” Ginny's voice was cold and controlled, and it didn't suit her at all.

“She's nice.” Harry shrugged, not really understanding what Ginny wanted to hear from him.

“Oh, I bet she is.”

“What are you talking about, Ginny? You liked her too!”

Ginny chose to ignore his last comment.

“So, you're talking to Gabrielle, but you're not talking to me.”

“Well, every time I try there's the problem of you shooting my head off!” Harry said heatedly. He was getting extremely frustrated with not understanding what it was that infuriated Ginny so much.

“I won't shoot your head off if you'd just tell me what's going on!”

“I can't. You _know_ I can't.”

“You told Ron and Hermione,” Ginny accused.

“That's different.”

“How?”

“They've been with me every step of the way.”

“I went with you to the Department of Mysteries and -”

“ - and you got hurt,” Harry finished her sentence.

Ginny's eyes crackled in a sudden increase of anger.

“So, just what are you saying? That I can’t look after myself?”

“Yeah, maybe that’s exactly what I'm saying!”

Ginny lowered her voice until it was hardly more than a deadly whisper.

“So, that's it then. You think I'm nothing more that your best friend's stupid, fragile, dumb, little sister. Good for a snog, but not for anything else. Not good enough for you, am I, Potter?”

Harry stared at her. “Right. This conversation is over,” Harry said and then abruptly turned around.

“NO, THIS CONVERSATION BLOODY WELL ISN'T OVER!” Ginny bellowed at his back. “I wasn't good enough for you, so you decided to dump me. Pretending to act noble, so people would admire you for it too. What did you expect? That I'd be waiting another five and a half years for just a couple of snogs and maybe a shag before I'd be dumped again?”

“You're talking rubbish.”

Harry was desperate to get out of the room. Ginny was deliberately pushing all of his buttons and he wasn't sure how much longer he could control his temper, but he didn't want to lash out at her.

“Oh, so now I'm RUBBISH?”

Something broke. Harry whipped around, facing her.

“STOP TWISTING MY WORDS TO MEAN WHAT YOU WANT THEM TO!”

“WHAT _I_ WANT THEM TO MEAN? THEN TELL ME HOW _YOU_ MEAN THEM!”

“NO, I WON'T!”

“FINE!”

Seething, Ginny stormed out of the room, slamming the door hard. Harry kicked the trashcan in frustration.

The door opened slowly again.

“Get out.”

“Harry?” It was Hermione, sticking her bushy head through the door with a timid air.

“I said, _get out_!”

She obeyed, leaving Harry alone in an empty room, with a dented trashcan and a lot of anger.

 

\--------------------------------------------------------- 

 

The last quarrel seemed to be the end of the friendship between Harry and Ginny. The youngest Weasley refused to look at him, or even stay in the same room. Harry was used to this treatment at Privet Drive, but with the Weasleys it hurt much deeper than he would ever admit. So, Harry locked himself up in his room again, with Dumbledore's notes, books and pensive.

But Harry and Ginny weren't the only ones walking around scowling these days. The second week of August had already started. Hogwarts would open its doors in a fortnight and Molly Weasley still hadn't convinced her youngest son to go back to the magnificent castle.

It was clear to Harry that she was desperate to get him there. Maybe she feared for his future if Ron wouldn't manage to get any NEWTS; maybe she felt Hogwarts was the safest place to stay; maybe she wanted to keep him away from the Order's dangerous work. Actually, it was probably a combination of that all together that made her drive Ron to the point of insanity.

Ron started to avoid his mother, like his sister avoided Harry. It pained Harry to see the angry faces during mealtimes, but decided that this was a family issue, and he had nothing to do about it.

The gloomy atmosphere in Grimmauld Place began to affect the others too. Hermione became snappy, Mr Weasley stopped talking about plugs, and any prank Fred or George played was followed by irritation and exasperation, rather than laughter.

Really, this was the first time Harry did not enjoy staying with the Weasley family. Quite frankly, he couldn't wait until the Hogwarts term began: the argument between Ron and Mrs. Weasley would be over either way, and Ginny would be gone. Fred, George, and the two Weasley parents would move back to The Burrow. Maybe things would quiet down then.

Although Harry dreaded the silence, he knew he would have Hermione to keep him company, and hopefully Ron too.

 

\--------------------------------------------------------- 

 

When Harry woke on Tuesday morning, the first thing he noticed was the bright sunlight outside, and he wished its cheeriness could penetrate the old house, where things were still gloomy.

The second thing he noticed was the absence of Ron's usual snoring from the next room, which meant that Ron had awoken before Harry. _Quite unusual_ , he thought.

The shouting match downstairs was the third, final, and most obvious thing he noticed. Harry jammed his pillow over his head, but couldn't block out his best friend's voice, let alone that of Mrs. Weasley.

It went on for ages. Harry couldn't hear what they were saying - nor did he want to - but the muffled yelling penetrating his room rendered him incapable of concentrating on anything else.

There was a soft rap on the door (which Harry almost missed due to the racket downstairs) and Hermione entered at the same volume as her knock.

The noise level of the fight increased briefly and Harry caught a few lines.

“- … NOT OLD ENOUGH TO GET INVOLVED -”

“I'M OF AGE, MUM, YOU CAN'T TELL ME -”

“-NO, YOU'RE NOT! YOU'RE BEHAVING VERY CHILDISH IF YOU THINK THAT… -”

Their voices were reduced to muffled shouts again when Hermione shut the door behind her, pale-faced.

“So, what are they arguing about now?” Harry asked, both out of a sense of friendly duty and an intense curiosity.

Hermione sat down on the bed.

“Ron and I were downstairs when Moody came in. And he asked us something about Hogwarts. I said we weren’t going.. - I meant you and me.” She added, looking at Harry. “Well, anyway. He asked us if maybe we wanted to help the Order, nothing big, just a couple of small things you know… You know Ron, he immediately agreed. And, well, his mum went berserk.”

She fell silent for a moment. The muffled yells in the kitchen downstairs hadn't diminished in the slightest. Harry’s still inquisitive expression made her continue.

“I don't think Ron has made up his mind yet, Harry, but he is going to find the Order very difficult to combine with school…”

Harry said nothing. Being able to work for the Order would be attractive to Ron, indeed. Ron wanted to prove himself, and this would be an excellent way of doing so.

But… Mrs. Weasley would be terrified to have yet another member of her family involved in the war. And, like Hermione said, if Ron started working for the Order, the chance that he would return to Hogwarts wouldn't exactly increase…and, well, Mrs. Weasley wouldn't be thrilled about that either, to put it lightly.

“Did you find anything yet?” Hermione's voice shook Harry awake.

“Sorry, did I find what?”

“From the notes, I mean, and the books…you know.”

Dumbledore…

“Not really - though Dumbledore had an extraordinary amount of information about a forest in Albania, and I don't think he wanted to go there on vacation.”

Hermione sat up a little straighter.

“Albania? Wasn’t that were V-Voldemort was supposed to be hiding before he came back?”

Harry nodded

“That’s what Dumbledore told me in second year. Said he had spies there.”

“So, but then it makes sense that Dumbledore has notes of that, doesn’t it? It means nothing now...”

But Harry shook his head.

“Look at the date...”

He got out of bed swiftly and walked to his desk. After tapping the top-drawer with his wand, he pulled it open and snagged a piece of parchment.

“Look at the date...”

He shoved the parchment into her hands, and upon reading that date, Hermione frowned.

“But that...that’s not even two years ago...”

“Exactly... why would someone need a lot of information about a place, when there is nothing to find anymore?”


	5. Weasley Problems

Ron kept his mother on edge and tense until three days before start of term. Owls had arrived two days before, during breakfast. Harry and Hermione had ignored the parchment envelopes dropped in front of them, and the stately eagle owls had looked a lot less noble when flapping around the house for hours, trying to deliver their letters, before returning to the castle.

Ron, however, had reluctantly opened his at the breakfast table, under the watchful glare of his mother. Out fell, along with the usual letter and the list of schoolbooks, a shiny Head Boy badge. Everyone had stared at it.

It was a strange situation. Probably, most would have been happily congratulating Ron. Mrs. Weasley would have beamed proudly, Ginny and the twins would pretend they weren’t related to him; and it would have been Harry’s duty, as Ron’s best friend, to thump him on the back and tease him with it – all in good nature of course.

But at this time, everyone had ignored it. Nobody dared breathe a word of it in Mrs. Weasley’s presence, and Ron had been in a right foul mood until Hermione whispered “Well done, Ron!” as they left the kitchen.

It was six thirty in the evening and the Weasleys sat gathered in the kitchen, finishing their dinner, when Ron finally spoke up, breaking the unusual silence.

“I’ve decided not to go to Hogwarts.”

Harry’s stomach leaped at first, but at the sight of Mrs. Weasley, it plunged deeper than it had been before. It was strange how deafening a silence could be, particularly in this family. Everyone stared from Ron to Mrs. Weasley. Ron didn’t look at his mother, and instead spoke to his father.

“I’m not going back. I’m going to help Harry...”

“Help him with _what_ , exactly?”

Ron ignored his mother’s question.

“I’ve decided that there are things more important than work, or NEWT’s, or ..... “ Ron finally turned to his mother “- or being Head Boy.”

Everyone stared at Mrs. Weasley, wondering how she would react. Ron held his head high. Everyone watched as a thousand emotions seemed to pass through her, but she remained silent.

After a minute of rapidly flashing facial expressions, most of which nearly broke the hearts of those who loved her, she put down her napkin, excused herself, and walked out of the kitchen. Ron looked green. Harry felt miserable and refused to take his eyes off his peas, until, at the sound of a throat being cleared, Harry looked up. Mr. Weasley looked at his youngest son with an expression on his face that was difficult to read.

“Ron, I want to say, well... I wished you would choose to go to Hogwarts. For one last time... But you are old enough to make a decision by yourself. I know you have thought about this thoroughly... and I have to admire you for not giving in when your mother got... a little desperate sometimes.”

Mr. Weasley smiled weakly, and the tension around the table lifted somewhat.

“This is very difficult to say, as your father, and I don’t think your mother will agree with me, but... I think you have made the right decision.”

Ron lifted his gaze from the table to meet his father’s grave, yet proud, eyes.

“I don’t like it any more than your mother does, and I wish, for all of you, that things were different, but I think... war requires sacrifices... giving up this last year, and the position of Head Boy, is an enormous sacrifice for you, we should all do well to realize that. This wasn’t an easy decision at all, son, and I am proud of you.”

Harry looked around the table. Fred and George stared at their brother as though they had never seen him before while Charlie nodded in agreement. Ginny smiled encouragingly as Hermione beamed and Harry, finally being able to do it, thumped his red -eared best mate on the back.

 

\----------------------------------------------------------

 

After this, life went back to how it was before Bill’s wedding. Harry, Ron and Hermione shut themselves up in the study again, and only appeared during mealtimes. Ginny was unfortunately still giving Harry the silent treatment.

Mrs. Weasley seemed to have taken the blow surprisingly well, though Harry suspected her husband had something to do with that.

Harry and Hermione updated Ron about the strange amount of reports about the Albanian forest. Ron seemed mildly interested and helped them with looking for clues about the significance of Albania, but none of them found anything and soon were back to reading Dumbledore’s notes, or, in Hermione’s case, translating the books.

Harry was getting more and more convinced that there were notes missing from the pile Dumbledore had left them. Some of the scrolls of parchment had a page number or a date scribbled in a corner, but no matter how hard he tried, Harry just couldn’t make a logical story out of it. 

It wasn’t complete. But where were the other pages? 

“Well, I don’t know where they are, but I’m sure they’re not lingering around somewhere,” Hermione mused when Harry confided in his friends. “Dumbledore had his notes sorted into neat piles. I do not think he would have left valuable information like this lying around either, he was too careful...”

“D’you reckon the Death Eaters stole them?” Ron suggested “I mean ... You-Know-Who would be interested to know how much Dumbledore suspected, wouldn’t he?”

“Stolen... or destroyed…”

Hermione looked at Harry.

“Destroyed would make sense, wouldn’t it? But by whom? The Death Eaters, or Dumbledore himself? But then, if it was Dumbledore, he could have destroyed everything... why only a few pages?”

“It’s bound to be Dumbledore, isn’t it?” Ron was practically bouncing in his seat. “No, listen to this... Dumbledore himself destroyed the pages that held the important information, because he couldn’t trust Gringotts to transfer everything to Harry’s vault safely. The pages he did leave us, well... they’re clues!”

That theory seemed slightly far fetched to Harry, but... it made sense... in a weird, twisted kind of way.

Hermione seemed to be thinking along the same lines.

“Well, it’s not like we’ve never solved riddles before. Dumbledore knew us...” she muttered, looking thoughtful. But then her face fell. “But if you’re right, Ron, and all these are clues – “ she made a sweeping motion with her arm, indicating the books and parchment littering the floor “ –  well, we’re not the only ones who can solve it, are we?”

Harry shook his head.

“I’m sure Voldemort could solve whatever mystery it held -”“

It’s probably really complicated or something. Dumbledore knew we wouldn’t stop at nothing to solve a mystery...” Ron’s voice trailed away, and a silence fell once more.

Harry knew all three of them were thinking about the same thing... had Dumbledore intended all of his notes to fall into Harry’s possession, or were these notes mere clues? And if Ron was right, then what was Dumbledore trying to say?

 

\----------------------------------------------------------

 

When Harry woke two days later, Grimmauld Place was full of the numerous, loud marks of the Weasleys getting ready to leave. Charlie and Mr. and Mrs. Weasley were preparing to move back to the Burrow and Ginny would be leaving to Hogwarts for her sixth year. 

Harry felt a pang of regret that he couldn’t come with her. He missed Hogwarts already. It was much more a home to him than this mouldy old place. He would miss its bustling hallways and its laughing students. He would miss sleeping in his four-poster bed, the Gryffindor Common Room and the Gryffindor boys he had been living with since age eleven. This would be the first year away from school since he had taken up his place in the magical community. 

Harry threw away his blankets and sat on the edge of his bed. 

It was clichéd, but what he wouldn’t give to be a normal boy. He would have been anticipating his final school year, his last change to cause a lot of mayhem, and he, Ron and Hermione would excitedly be planning their future careers...

What was he going to do now? He couldn’t shut himself up in his study for a full year. Maybe he should get a job? There’s no way he could be an Auror now. 

There was a knock on the door and Ron’s freckly face appeared.

“Mum says breakfast is ready.”

“Coming,” Harry grunted.

Groping around for his glasses, Harry steeled himself. _You’ve made your decision Potter, and you are going to stick to it. If that means you’ve got to shut yourself up in the study, so be it. But right now, you are going down for breakfast._

And, for once in his life, Harry listened to himself.

 

\----------------------------------------------------------

 

The front door slammed shut. Harry watched it silently. Ron and Hermione were busy shutting Mrs. Black up, definitely an arduous task. There was no one else left.

Harry walked into the living room and crashed down on the couch. Within a minute, Hermione and Ron joined him, panting from the effort of pulling the screaming painting’s curtains closed.

“So, we’re alone again. No more messing around with Silencing Charms and _Muffliato_ spells. We’ll hear any visitor arrive _minutes_ in advance. All we have to do now is keep an eye on the fireplace.” Ron sighed and Harry glanced at the hearth. There were no flames, green or any other color, as that would be the very last thing they needed on this very hot summer day. 

“We’ve got to decide what we’re going to do this year, though,” Hermione said. “We can’t hang around in this house all year, you know. We’ve got a rent to pay –”

“Yeah, a pretty big one, judging from the size of this place...”

“Indeed. So, I’ve been thinking... maybe it’s time we applied for jobs.”

Ron looked at her incredulously. 

“Are you mental? We’ve got an entire year without obligations! We don’t have to do anything… we don’t have to report to anyone... this is _heaven_! You’re telling me to give all that up?”

Hermione made a disapproving sound in the back of her throat.

“Honestly, Ronald, we need _money_ to...”

“I’ve got money.” Harry suddenly spoke up. “I’ve got enough to get us going for a while.”

“But we can’t live out of your pocket forever, Harry. We’ve got our own lives to build...”

Even Ron seemed to agree with that. Apparently the subject of money embarrassed him enough to keep him from wanting to be dependent on Harry’s inheritance for too long, even if that meant a _heavenly_ careless life. He grumbled something like “All right” and walked out of the room.

Hermione turned to Harry, who expected a lecture about work and looked up surprised when she asked, “So, what’s bothering you now, Harry?"

“Nothing.”

“Oh, come on, Harry. You haven’t said a word to anyone all morning.”

“ ’S nothing,” Harry repeated.

“Harry, if this is about Mrs. Weasley –”

“I’m fine. Nothing’s bothering me.”

“ – because that wasn’t what she meant –”

“I said I’m fine! Stop nagging!”

Hermione fell silent, looked at him for a moment, and then walked away after Ron. Harry watched her go, feeling slightly ashamed of his attitude, but relieved that she had stopped badgering him. 

He sighed and dropped his head in his hands. Why did Hermione have to be right all the time? Something _was_ bothering him, and it had _everything_ to do with Mrs. Weasley. She hadn’t said so much as a word to him ever since Ron had announced he wasn’t going back to Hogwarts. This morning she had merely thrust a plate with sandwiches in his hands without so much as looking at him, and then, when he had almost finished his plate, had asked whether he hadn’t finished yet and told him to make himself useful. Ron had muttered that she was probably just stressed, but Harry could see that there was more to her behavior.

Well, of course there was more. Harry shook himself. Mrs. Weasley couldn’t be too happy with him right now. She had treated him like a seventh son ever since Harry met her on King’s Cross, and how had he repaid her?

He had endangered Ron on countless of occasions, he had led him _and_ Ginny into the arms of a dozen Death Eaters, Fred and George started an entirely unsuitable career that _he_ made possible, Percy had left the family, it was because of _him_ that the Weasleys were now on the top of Voldemort’s death-list. _And_ now he had caused Ron to give up his school for him. Surely everybody would say that this had been Ron’s own decision, but there was no denying Ron would never have done that if it wasn’t for Harry.

Harry felt his eyes burn, and he was grateful that neither Ron nor Hermione could see him. 

Mrs. Weasley was frantically trying to keep her family together despite the war, but since Harry had been in their life, it was slowly falling apart. 

Harry didn’t know how he could make things up to her.

* * *

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